Call me Arcturia. You've probably never heard of me and I'm fine with that. You might have met me though, I do like to move around. It's why I call myself the Wanderer. I'm the bastard (Literal) child of some bastard (Not literal) human noble. He apparently had a thing for elvish women and knocked up my mother when he was out on an excursion from his lands and she was traveling. She never even got his name. Which, since she couldn't really travel, left us rather alone in a foreign place. Especially since she never really became well again after giving birth to me and died not many years after.
I'm would call myself nice-looking, but by no means a beauty. Just a little above average. Somewhat taller than your average woman, about 5 foot and 8 inches, with a lithe and toned body. I have olive, sun-worn skin; it's hard to be pale and fragile when you do everything for yourself. They're framed by black straight hair that I keep cut relatively short. My only really unique feature is my hazel eyes that almost seem to change color.
I intend to wander the lands and search for somewhere new and better. Maybe even find a home. But I will explore and find the beauty in the world. I'm not really looking for friends or allies, beyond convenience. It's hard to trust when you've been an outcast loner for most of your life. But I'll take what I can get as I look for a better world. And maybe, as I begin my journey, I might realize that if I can't find this world, I might have to make it.